CHAPTER FOUR HUNDRED

It was barely approaching late afternoon in Moscow, and for once, the sun had come out of hiding, casting radiant light on a city covered in snow. Sightseeing of the city was easy after Exhibition practice ended, and full advantage was taken.

The Red Square, St. Basil's Cathedral, and to cap the day, a nearly 4-hour tour of the Kremlin Armory and Diamond Fund. Massive room after massive room, filled to the brim with antiques, some of which were more than just a few hundred years old; some as grand as snow-sledges and horse-drawn carriages, to plate armor for the horses, then to dresses and other clothing worn by the royals of Russia's past, plates, cutlery, Fabergé eggs, and a jewel repository that glittered from floor to ceiling.

For once, Yurio's observations of his surroundings were made in silence. He made his way around the museum, looking at each piece carefully, then moved on to the next, always sure to stay within a few paces of his adult minders. He was sure to keep his hood up though, not wanting to draw attention from anyone who might recognize him in such a public setting.

Doing the touristy thing during a competition weekend is always a risk, He thought, eyes moving from the display case in front of him to the people standing nearby, Normally it might be one in every fifty who recognizes me, but more people are in town specifically for the skating than usual, so the number goes up pretty high. All those people are doing the exact same stuff that I am, killing time between the events.

Nikki held her phone up and took careful pictures of everything she could; her meticulous cataloguing was what took their adventure so long to complete. Every ten shots or so, she'd pause to upload her cache to Instagram. In a fun and unexpected moment though, she decided to turn around and take a picture with Yurio in the shot as well...but he turned around, pinky finger wedged up his nose, and only had enough time to open his eyes wide before the flash got him. Nikki was nearly in hysterics when she saw the image she'd captured, but the older teen just squashed his hands against her mouth to keep her quiet.

"You're not going to post that one, are you?"

She nearly had tears in her eyes, nodding behind his hands.

"I have an image to uphold."

Nikki backed up from the muzzle and poked the Russian Punk with an elbow as she turned to catch up with the others, "It's not like anyone who follows me actually knows you; it's just my friends from back in Canada. Well, except Otabek I guess."

"...Wait, what?" Yurio repeated, not realizing his volume, "Otabek follows you? Since when?"

"Since the first time I commented on your Insta and he realized it was me?" She explained, "Can't remember exactly when. Sometime after we left Detroit though."

"He doesn't even post publicly though. His account is private."

"So? He approved me to watch his account back, and he DMs me sometimes. I feel like I'm the only girl who's on his page though...I mean, otherwise it's guys like you, and that American skater, Leo I thin-"

"He DMs you, too!?" Yurio chortled, having taken a moment to process the comment before being able to answer, "Otabek...traitor..."

Nikki found it funny though, "Relax. Half the time he's messaging about you because you're not answering him. Since we're in the same place though...he kind of equated it to following Cousin Viktor to keep track of the other Yuri."

"...Oh."

"Yeah, you post a lot but you don't interact back much. If you comment at all, it's usually on someone else's posts...and apparently you're terrible at checking your inbox."

"...Derʹmo..." (Shit.)

"I was just telling him earlier that he should make a public account or something," Nikki went on, starting to take pictures of the next display; gold gilded books and Bibles, set with precious gems and the likeness of prophets, "He posts a lot on his private page...and his coach posts pictures publicly for him for the skating stuff, but when Cousin Viktor and his Yuri made that post earlier today about that guy they helped in Japan, it made me think about Otabek, too. Him and that Japanese guy are the same in that way, keeping out of the public eye so no one really knows about them."

Yurio half-scoffed at her, "You've barely been part of this world for what, 2 weeks? And you already talk like you think you could be some athlete's manager." That just earned him a kick in the shin though, and he winced, "What was that for!?"

"I'm trying to show interest so I can be supportive! Don't discourage me!" She argued.

"So you're saying you wouldn't care if not for me." He huffed, lifting the leg up to rub where it still stung.

"And Otabek, and Cousin Viktor, and the other Yuri...at first...but now I'm getting into it." Nikki reminded, then shook her head as she moved on to get another photo, "It's hard work to get all caught up with everything though. Well...with Viktor it was easy once I found that Viktuuri page, but you and Otabek are a bit harder. I did find out one nugget of neat information though..."

"Yeah?" Yurio feigned interest, still feeling more jealous than anything.

"That Russian skater lady that Otabek went to go hang out with at the Final." She started, looking at her latest photo, "Apparently they dated for like a week and then called it off!"

"...Baba Yaga actually dated him? I mean, he dated her?" The Tiger was thrown off entirely, "I thought he just went to talk to her and the rest."

"I guess he took it kind of literally. I vaguely remember the description of how you guys became friends." She turned on a heel and stuck out her hand in an offered handshake, "I offer you my comradery, Yuri Plisetsky. I have many amenable qualities that are adequate for friendship and feel this would be an mutually beneficial arrangement."

He just gaped at her, "The Hell!? It wasn't like that at all!"

Nikki just cackled, "I can just imagine him going up to her..." She turned back, and again extended her hand, making a serious face as they moved to catch up with the other three in their group, "Miss Russian Lady Skater, I extend to you my affection. I am a qualified human male with many desirable traits, some of which you are already familiar with, such as my dark and dashing good looks, and cool demeanor. Please clasp my hand if you accept the terms of this relationship."

"Unbelievable." Yurio groaned in an exasperated tone.

"You know that's exactly what happened."

The older teen just rolled his eyes so far back that it tilted his head. When he looked down again, he shrugged and huffed a sigh, "So why did him and Baba break up then? Did she fire him or did he quit?"

"The company dissolved." Nikki mused, "Wasn't profitable enough. The Board of Directors agreed that they had different visions for the future of the business and, since they didn't match, it wouldn't make sense to continue together."

"...Oh." Yurio deadpanned.

"And apparently Baba, as you call her, was a bit too enthusiastic and pushy. It kinda put him off." The silver teen said with half a laugh, "Considering how often she hoists you above her head, I guess I can see that. They're still on good terms though; I guess it's easier to 'date' and 'break-up' when you're in different countries." She offered, putting up air-quotes as she spoke.

Yurio just grumbled, "Her name is Mila. I just call her Baba as a joke on her last name, Babicheva, cuz it means old lady in Russian. She was dating a hockey player right before Viktor left to coach Katsudon...maybe she expected Otabek to be like that guy."

"Who knows?" Nikki shrugged, "He's been pretty chatty since then though. That's actually part of why I'm taking so many pictures...Otabek wanted to see what we were seeing. He's never gotten to see the Kremlin before."

"Hmph..." The Russian Punk grit his teeth, "You sure that's why he asked?"

"Eh?"

"Are we done with this section?" Mikhail wondered, reaching an arm out to gently press his hand to his youngest daughter's back as the pair got close, "Kon said he's getting hungry so we'll have to leave soon."

"We're pretty close to the end anyway, aren't we?" Nikki asked, "Oh! We should take a big group picture! Vikki, do you still carry around that selfie-stick?"

"Yeah," The older teen answered, pulling the aforementioned device out of the inside of her coat to hand it over.

"Everyone get close!" The younger said excitedly, attaching her phone to the end of the pole and telescoping it out to its full length. She could hear the instructions being explained again in Russian as she tried to squish everyone into the frame. It was a trick to get everyone in the view-finder though. A certain bear was difficult to capture, "...I can't reach high enough to get Uncle Kon in..."

"Here, sweetie," Mikhail started, reaching through the gap between heads from the back row to take hold of the self-stick and lift it higher, "Tell me where."

"...A bit lower...a bit lower... Everyone squish in a bit more?"

"Posmotri, kakie u nego glaza." (Let's see if I can get closer.) Kon grumbled, trying to be a good sport even if it was weird for him to participate.

"Okay! That's perfect! Say cheeeeese!" Nikki cheered, throwing her hands up given how she had space to do so then. When she heard the sound of her phone's camera clicking, she cheered and took the selfie-stick back to unholster the device. The sight of the five of them in the same image made the teen giddy, and she immediately went to Instagram with it, "This is great. We haven't gotten a pic with everyone before. Otabek's gonna be super jealous."

"Otabek?" Mikhail echoed skeptically.

"Beka." Yurio explained curtly, "That guy from little former Russia."

"I remember him just fine. Why is he going to be jealous though?"

"He's following our progress through the Armory, apparently."

"Nikkita." The elder's voice was dull, "I faintly recall seeing the number 20 next to his name at the Grand Prix."

"Yeah?" She looked back up at her father and blinked innocently, "So?"

"Twenty." He repeated.

"'K?"

"Isn't the age for getting onto social media supposed to be 13 or something?"

She scoffed, "I'm turning 15 in three weeks, thankyouverymuch."

"Why are you talking to him?"

Yurio shook his head...the situation was funny and sad at the same time.

"Cuz Yuri introduced me and now he's my friend?" Nikki answered, looking back at her phone screen, "And he's nice to me? He watched out for me in Detroit when Yuri and I went off on our own? I braided his hair that one time, too, remember? And he caught me when I jumped off the railing."

"Why are you getting involved with all these boys suddenly?" Mikhail grumbled uncomfortably, "And why are you turning 15 next month? You should be 10 forever."

The silver teen just gaped, "I'm not gonna be 10 forever! That's gross and horrible!"

"Might have something to do with the fact that everyone new that she's met is from the Men's Singles group," Yurio pointed out dryly, "Hard to make lady-friends when everyone you run into is a dude."

"Stop making sense. It's not allowed when I'm being her father." Mikhail said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Nikki, why can't you be more like your older sister? She's not cavorting with strange men online."

"That you know of." All three teens echoed together, then laughing at the coincidence at the elder's expense.

Mikhail pulled his eyelids down in resignation and whined behind his hand, "Why are all my kids so rebellious...?"

.

Wait-staff started filtering between tables, refilling empty water glasses and setting down plates from the earlier meal orders; the list of options wasn't terribly long, but each of the five possible entrées was as fancy as one could expect.

"Is it weird that I actually kind of miss regular food?" Viktor wondered, eyes wandering around the big room as he waited for their own table to be serviced. His stomach growled under the fabric of his elaborately embroidered suit-vest.

"You eat regular food every day," Yuri deadpanned.

"...Regular for me." He clarified, "Japanese cuisine is still something of a novelty, even if I'm getting used to it. I never thought I'd say that I miss steak and potatoes."

"Oh...yeah, I guess so."

"Ahem," Minami suddenly cleared his throat, standing at his place at their communal table, champagne flute in his hand (filled with ice-water,) tapping the side of it with a spoon, "If I could have the attention of the gathered."

Eyes raised towards him in confusion.

The teen glanced around just to be sure everyone was looking, and made a wide, sweeping gesture with the spoon-hand, "Now that we're all here...I think it's only appropriate that someone say something. It's been two hours...and I don't think anyone has fully acknowledged an unprecedented event that transpired earlier in the night."

Viktor smirked, having a feeling he knew where the Smol Nugget's story was leading. He brought his elbow up onto the back of his seat and propped his knuckles against the side of his jaw, free hand forward to give his husband's shoulder a knowing squeeze.

"Now, while it's true that our illustrious new addition took Gold this weekend," Minami continued, eyes closed as he gestured towards the Russian, "I do believe the MPV of the event is our very own native son, Yuri-kun, who dished out 8 quads in his Exhibition like it was nothing."

Yuri's face went red. The rest of the table clapped and cheered, drawing the attention of nearby people.

"If he did that version of 'Aria' for competition, I'd give it 10 billion points! Each jump would get a three million+ GOE!" The brightly-colored teen went on, getting up onto his chair and getting louder in the process, "It would be a World Record to end all records! No one would ever beat it for the rest of time!"

"Minami-kun, people are staring-" Yuri protested quietly, leaning forward and waving both hands defensively as he caught sight of even more Banquet attendees looking in their direction.

On the younger skater's opposite side, Coach Kanako was trying to get her athlete's attention as well, "Minami, get down before you hurt yourself!"

He suddenly became quite aware of himself, and looked around the hall, seeing everyone looking back at him. He blinked twice, but then shrieked in a high-pitch voice, "YURI-KUN IS JAPAN'S HERO! EVEN IF HE ONLY WON BRONZE THIS WEEKEND, HE'S STILL THE BEST!"

Yuri was practically catatonic from the embarrassment, hardly able to react even as the clapping and cheering reverberated throughout the room, and Viktor pulled him back against his chest. Happy kisses pressed against his neck, and the Russian whispered into his ear, "It's wonderful that you're starting to get the public recognition you deserve."

Zzzzzzz...

.

Yurio practically hopped into the hotel room, crouching down next to the far bed as Potya got up and mew'd at him. He nosed the feline and got a few licks for it before he stood up and picked the Ragdoll up against his shoulder, "Did you have a good nap? Are you hungry?" Another mew, and Yurio stepped aside, letting others go by as he went to rummage for his pet's dinner. Potya sat nimbly on his shoulder as he dished out the wet pâté onto a small ceramic plate, then jumped down onto the table-top where the plate was put for her to eat. She licked at it happily, and Yurio rubbed her fluffy back before turning to toss out the tin and then find his things.

"Oh wow..." Nikki suddenly said aloud, sitting cross-legged on one of the beds as she looked at her phone, "Social media is going nuts for Viktor's Yuri. Apparently he did 8 quads in his Exhibition earlier."

Yurio would've spat liquid out of his nose to hear that, if he were drinking anything. Instead, he just snorted loudly, "He did what!?How many!?"

"Eight."

"That's crazy. Someone counted wrong. Who can even do eight quads in a single show anyway?"

"Didn't Viktor do that many in Japan?" The younger teen wondered, "That's what everyone's saying in the comments section. That Yuri's Exhibition would've probably scored higher than Cousin Viktor's Free Program at NHK."

"Maybe it's a good thing that Minako went with them instead of us," Mikhail huffed, sitting back against that same bed, ankles crossed before him, "If he turns out like my nephew did, then he'll be a wreck of pain and suffering in the morning."

"Those two morons are lucky they didn't break their knees and backs doing that many quads. They're not human." Yurio protested, "It's gonna take a lot more than a simple fascia release tomorrow to recover from stuff like this if they make it common."

"I don't think it will be..." Nikki said, eyes sliding back and forth as she kept reading, "Some folks were saying that it looked like Yuri was crying at the end of it. They were wondering if maybe him and Viktor had a fight sometime between his first and then second show, cuz he was really enthusiastic during the first. ...Apparently he did break dancing on the ice?"

"Ugh that gross dancing again?" Yurio stuck his tongue out, "I thought he retired that crap after the Sochi Banquet."

Mikhail huffed a laugh at the memory of the photos.

"I guess not. There's a few pictures. Wanna see?" Nikki turned her phone around and held it forward, showing a single photo as a sample; a still-frame from the lay-up exit out of the first windmill maneuver, "Pretty cool, huh?"

"UGH."

"Maybe you need to learn more than ballet." Mikhail winked at the Russian Punk, "I could imagine you doing Hosak dancing on ice!" He laughed.

"Do you have any idea how hard it would be to do that on the ice!?" Yurio lambasted him, "It's all leg-moves while sitting! Flapping the knees back and forth on the ground and kicking the feet out while sitting on your toes! Then there's all the spinning in wide circles while sitting!"

"...That sounds an awful lot like what you already do." Nikki teased, unsure though.

The slap against the blonde's forehead was enough to get Potya to look up, but Yurio was undeterred, "It's nothing like what I do now!" He reached into his bag and pulled out one of his black-bladed skates, pointing at the metal bolted to the bottom, "The soles of my boots are completely rigid. To do Hosak dancing, you gotta be able to perch on your toes, and the soles have to be really flexible so you can kick out and land again without jumping up too high to make room. There's also the risk of snagging the ass of my costume on these," He pointed at the extended heel-blade, "And I shouldn't have to tell you all the reasons why that would be something I want to avoid."

Mikhail couldn't help but howl with laughter at that, nearly rolling off the edge of the bed in the process...though he did lose his hat as he twisted to catch himself. All eyes turned on him in confusion, but he pushed himself up and leaned on one hand as he coughed to clear his throat into the other, "Ahem... Sorry. The idea of someone's ass hanging out on the ice brought back a memory that was really funny." He explained, still trying to stifle the chuckles as he spoke. Still, he could feel the eyes on him, "...What? It was funny."

"We have no idea what you're talking about." Viktoria said flatly, "Who's ass? Why on the ice?"

Mikhail just extended his arms out in presentation of the Russian Bear standing near the door. All he got in response was blinking, even from Kon, who was certain he'd just been dragged into a conversation that he had no clue about. The Rozovsky elder just sighed and rubbed his head, "...Right, you guys don't know. How to put this gently..."

"Čto ty takoe govorišʹ? Èto čto-to nasčët menja?" (What are you saying right now? Is it something about me?) Konstantin grumbled, "Lučše by tak i bylo." (It better not be.)

The silver Russian smiled dubiously, but turned back to the teens on his other side, "When my sister and him and I were kids, there was a time when we all skated...and this one time, he fell, tore up his pants in the process, and his ass hung out...and I made fun of him for it. For years. He hated skating ever since and it's a huge reason why there was such a big family falling-out about it later on, at least regarding your cousin. That's why it's a funny memory...cuz it was funny back then...not anymore."

"Augh would you just say his name, papa?" Nikki groaned.

"So then why laugh about it now?" Yurio deadpanned the older man as he put the skate away again, deflating his 'younger sister's' point before it could get awkward.

Mikhail took the bait, "Because Kon's here with us now, at a skating event, and he's basically gotten over it."

The silver teen just dropped down to her back and returned to her phone, typing furiously away and speaking the words out loud as she wrote them, "WHAT...TIME...IS IT...IN JAPAN...RIGHT NOW."

"Honey, don't bother them while they're at a party." Her father instructed, "And it's midnight out there. We're 6 hours behind in Moscow."

"Ugh, you're totally insufferable when you're trying to claim the high-road on something that's your fault." Nikki argued, pushing to sit up again, "Just apologize to him already! Hasetsu is going to suck if we have to avoid each other all the time cuz Viktor's worried you'll pop up! The whole point to going there was so that we could all be together!"

"No it wasn't," Mikhail corrected, "We're moving to Hasetsu because that's where Minako lives, not because that's where Viktor lives. He's having difficulty accepting that I don't have to ask his permission to do what I want with my life. I'm not going to apologize for something I shouldn't have to be sorry for in the first place."

All three teens rolled their eyes at him. Kon did as well behind the younger Russian's back, but for entirely different reasons.

...I'm in Moscow, surrounded by English-speakers...

.

Yuri's face was still pink as the dinner event waned, main courses were eaten, and athletes started sipping at bubbly. Desserts started getting passed out by the wait-staff, but just as the last tables were being served, the JSF President arrived at the head of the room, standing on a slightly-raised stage between two massive screens. She tapped the side of her champagne flute to start getting peoples' attention, and before long, the room quieted for her, and she leaned to speak into the mic before her, "Thank you everyone, for making tonight's festivities start off so well. I'd like to interrupt briefly before we continue," She started, watching as everyone grabbed up their own drinks, be they champagne or something else, "Would all the medalists and Olympians please rise."

Several people pushed out their chairs and stood at their tables to be recognized, though it took Yuri and Viktor a moment longer to get there and join them as they maneuvered the Russian's extended leg around so he could get up. Once there though, they scanned the area, spotting Asahi clear across the room.

"Oh, there he is." Yuri whispered, letting his husband use his frame as a support while they stood awkwardly in front of their chairs, "I guess that would explain why we hadn't seen him until now."

The President's voice reverberated through the Banquet hall again, "I'd like to extend a personal congratulations to all of you who made it to the podium this weekend. A toast, to your continued success, and your achievements at the Winter Games."

"KANPAI!" The room cheered together, raising their glasses and taking a jovial sip.

"Once every four years, the world comes together for a massive International month-long event that brings athletes from every sport to one place. Because of skaters like you, and those working hard in aspiration, the eyes of the entire world will see how far Japan has come. Across the board, you of Team Japan consistently place in the top 10 of all individual athletes, with most of you already in the record books. We look forward to seeing what new achievements you'll win in PyeongChang! Ganbatte!"

A round of applause sounded, and though each of the standing athletes was being celebrated with it, they, too, clapped along with everyone else. Eventually, they were allowed to sit down though, and Viktor propped his leg up along the back of his husband's seat like before. His winter boot had long been abandoned by then though, leaving just the wrap and brace on his sore ankle.

"We should dance later," Viktor suggested suddenly, looking up at the waiter as a ceramic dish with crème brûlée was set in front of him. He turned to look at his partner for a response, "Right?"

Yuri was skeptical, "With your leg like this?"

"Maybe they'll take mercy on me and play something slow towards the end. We haven't danced since that funny ice-waltz we did in Detroit."

"...Viktor..."

"...Maybe you'll have mercy on me, too?" The Russian sighed, poking at the craquelure of caramelized sugar on the top of the flan dessert with a spoon, "Just one dance..."

Yuri sighed and reached across with his left hand, cupping his palm against the man's cheek, feeling a lean into it, and gently stroked his thumb, "...Maybe we can figure something out."